Woe To Me And My Freakin’ Money Problems :(

Ok so I have about a million ideas to blog about, but lately I haven’t had much of a drive to write about anything other than to woe in my current financial situation. Yes, it is embarrassing to discuss such financial matters but I’m sure I’m not hiding anything when I traded my free nights and weekends to a second job as a cashier at walmart. This isn’t to say that my Monday through Friday 9 to 5 job doesn’t pay well, because it does. I just fell into this deep hole of having to borrow from one of those cash advance places, pay them back, and then borrow again because I can’t fully pay them back in one spot. And the most embarrassing part of it all is that I have more than one advance. I won’t say how many because that is beyond my embarrassment tolerance level. I only told one friend and I trust her enough not to say anything. She has been there for me during my “I’m so freakin’ broke” crying fits. Heck, she was even listening to me cry about it last night! Thanks girl!

The thing that bothers me the most is that I don’t even remember how it got started. It’s like an endless evil cycle. Let me paint you a picture of how you can go from having one advance to…..well……more than one, cause I still won’t say how many I have. So, you’re short on cash and probably need about an extra $80 bucks or so to get you through your next paycheck. You probably wouldn’t have been short $80 bucks if you hadn’t gone out to eat so much, spent money on Mac makeup, or bought that shirt at Fashion Bug. You go to your nearest advance location and ask to borrow some money. If you qualify, and I did, you can borrow up to $300 dollars. However, their fee is $45 dollars, so in return you would only walk out with $255 dollars even though you only needed $80. Now you have all this extra money and are thinking “Hmmm…what to spend it on….” So by your next paycheck, you have to return to the advance location and pay them back those $300 dollars. Since you spent all that money, even though you were only looking for $80 bucks, you will have $300 missing from your next paycheck. That is a significant difference in someone’s paycheck, especially mine. So, you think: “I can’t afford to pay them back now, so I’ll borrow again.” So, you walk out with another $255 dollars but now you lost $45 dollars because of their fee. You don’t want to lose that $45 dollars, so you find another advance location to cover that missing gap. Yes, it’s silly because it’s only $45 dollars, but when you can’t afford to even miss that money, you find a way to cover it. AND, since you qualify for the maximum amount to borrow, you go ahead and take it all. So now, you got two advances from these loan places. So, you’re next paycheck comes and BAM! $600 dollars out of your check to pay for those two advance loans. You start to think: “Well, I can’t afford to pay off $600 dollars right now, so I’ll borrow again.” But this time, that $45 dollar fee goes up to $90 since you have two loans. You don’t want to lose those $90 bucks so you go to another payday advance location. And it just goes on and on until you can’t handle it anymore. Doing these bi-weekly routines has hit a heavy financial hole in my paychecks and quite frankly, my friends…….I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!! Hence: the second job at walmart to pay the advances off!!!

On top of all these advances and their stupid fees that have put me in a hole that seems impossible to dig myself out of, I’ve got other things to worry about. My rent, my utility bills, my mom’s bills, my tuition, my books, a project I will be working with a friend that will require heavy funding, and now for the cherry on top…..my freakin’ car. The moment I heard that clitter clatter and the sound of two metal pieces grinding together from the back of my car, I just lost it and began to cry. I couldn’t even concentrate in class last night. Tears were silently rolling down my face as I tried to read the lecture notes displayed on the professor’s projector. I was sitting there puffy-eyed and red-nosed stressed out over the fact that I literally have no money to pay whatever bill lies ahead of me including my car repair. I think the professor saw me crying, but I quickly put my head down. I sat there unable to concentrate so I started writing a prayer letter to God. I wrote in very small print so the student sitting next to me wouldn’t be able to read it and I also wrote it in Spanish just in case He didn’t get it in English. I wrote it hoping that He could hear me, read the letter, and help me get through this tough time. I’ve never felt so desperate before in my life. It is not a good feeling to have.

For those of you who have never been driven to tears due to the lack of money, let me explain it just a little. You feel as though you’ve run out of options and have nothing to turn to. All you see are these problems in front of you without any solutions. Nothing can change your mood. And, if you’re caught off guard by a joke you heard someone tell, you smile for a mere moment, but are quickly snapped back to your reality and continue in your pain.

I’ve gotten myself in these kinds of messes before, but nothing this big. And usually, my sister Mary is there to bail me out. But I don’t have the courage to ask for her help again. Also, I still owe her money from the last time she let me borrow. She has kindly deferred my payments to her until I can get on my feet again.

The only other person I talked to was my mother. When that grinding noise from my car wouldn’t go away on Monday, I just had to call my mom. I know my mom doesn’t have the money to help, but she has her heart. I sat there in my car trying to hold the sound of my crying voice telling her that I didn’t know what to do. That’s all I could say: “No se que hacer Ama. No se que hacer.” I know she wishes she could do more but there isn’t. It is so hard for me to ask for help. I don’t know why. I know I have other family members that will be there for me, but it’s unbelievably difficult to say “Hey, I need help. Can you help me?” Especially when it comes to money. I guess it’s because I’ve always tried to be the independent one. I’ve always wanted to prove that I can do well on my own and not need anyone. But, I learn that all of us fall every once in a while. We just need to hope that we are strong enough to pick ourselves up afterwards. So, we’ll see what happens. I’ll keep you posted if you ask. Thanks for reading.

Oh and if you ask if I have learned my lesson? HELL – TO – THE – YEAH!!! The next time I don’t have $80 bucks, I just won’t have the freakin’ $80 bucks!!!

In My Dreams.........

I have always found it fascinating how dreams can so easily reflect anything that goes on in a person’s life. I’m not sure if it’s the same for everyone, but dreams sometimes come so close to my heart and or represent something that is currently going on in my life. Of course there are those wild and crazy dreams where you’re an action hero or you are being chased and even though you’re trying your hardest to run really fast, you stay in the same spot never really getting away from the person or monster that is chasing you. Dreams can be fun, scary, and sometimes pleasurable (you know what I mean with this one). But what do they really mean? Are they trying to tell us something? Are our minds sneaking in ideas of what we really want to do in our physical lives? I may never have the answers to those questions and I don’t think anyone ever will. Maybe dreams are supposed to remain unexplained. I do, however, have one theory.

Ok, so here’s my theory on the “running in your dreams but never actually getting anywhere”: When we’re dreaming, our bodies are at rest and stay in the same position for a period of hours. When we dream, I believe our brain subconsciously knows that we’re dreaming. However, our creative imagination is free to take us on any adventures it wants, but at the same time, our brain is telling us that it’s a dream. Therefore, when we are trying to run really fast and barely move an inch, our brain is telling us that we are dreaming and sound asleep in a comfortable position. The position of our resting bodies is what is preventing our rapid movements in our dreams. This is why I believe a lot of dreams occur in slow motion due to the lack of movement in our sleep.

Now, I’m not an expert on dream interpretations, BUT!, I do know that they can often reflect parts of the conscious mind. The things we worry about, the things that scare us, the things that excite us, can all be twirling around in our heads and just expose themselves in our dreams. I also know that they can make you feel just about any emotion there is to describe even if you’re not currently experiencing anything to make you feel that way. Let me give you three specific examples that often repeat in my dreams cycle.

Caution: my last example is one of a personal dream I experienced this past Sunday morning. It’s a little sentimental and a bit of a downer. So if you do not want to read it because you are sick of my emotional writing, skip it. I won’t apologize for the sappy stuff I write about because I often find it very therapeutic and it helps me get through a lot of things.

Ok now! The first example of my repetitive dreams I have has to do with my teeth. For some reason, I constantly dream about losing them. Granted: I do have a huge fear of them falling right out of my mouth and I think that’s the reason why I constantly dream about this happening. I have had countless (AND I MEAN COUNTLESS) dreams about losing my pearly whites and it never seems to escape my mind. I think the only way I’ll stop having these dreams is if I confront this fear. But how in the world do I do that??? Do I go see a tooth therapist? Come on!!! And everytime I dream it, it feels so unbelievably real that I begin to think about how I’m going to pay for veneers!

The second type of dream that I constantly have is that of falling in love. Whether I’m dating or not, in love or not, this dream has been haunting me ever since I was a kid. From a young child-like Cinderella story to a long-time friend confessing his love to me, these dreams are more passionate than real life it seems. It gets me down to the center of my core feeling beyond what anyone could ever feel! The want, the crave, the need, the passion, and the powerful love that is the focus of the dream is indescribably strong. Last week, I had this dream with LL Cool J. LL was standing right in front of me, confessing his love for me and asked me to be his! I throw my arms around him and yell “Yeeeesssss!!!” And I'm not even a fan of his! But the feeling was so real that I could not stop thinking about it all day and I even posted it on my facebook status! Oh Lord have mercy!

Now, this next dream I’m about to describe is not a constant one but I just have to mention it because it’s quite funny. I love those dreams that are just so hilarious that when you wake up from it, you wake up laughing and it’s all you think about all day. You tell you’re friends about it and they find it hilarious too! I wish I had these types of dreams all the time but they are rare. Not too long ago I was speaking to one of my supervisors, who is a Controller for the company I work for, about her sister coming to California. We were talking about how San Diego would be a great place to live for her and that her sister would really like it here. After our conversation, we went back to work as normal. Usually, I get along really well with both the Controller and CFO of the company. They are the people I see everyday and talk to everyday at work. I see and talk to them more than my own family for goodness sake! So, it was no surprise to find them in my dreams! That night, I dreamt that the Controller, her sister, and I were having a slumber party at my place watching action movies of our CFO! What kind of twisted mind do I have? I later told them about it, and they found it hilarious!

This final dream that constantly visits me is that of a sensitive one. Every now and then I’ll get a dream about my late father Rafael Lua or my late brother Salvador “Chava” Lua. The last time I dreamt this was this past Sunday morning when I woke up crying. I was dreaming that Janine (sister in law) and I were playing cards at my mom’s house in the living room. Then, I heard my dad’s voice and when I turned around, I saw him standing next to my mom in the dining area. I was surprised to see him because he had been gone for fourteen years now and I was just shocked. I slowly went up to him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around, had a huge smile on his face and hugged and kissed me. I stood there in amazement shaking my head and started talking to him in Spanish. I looked into his eyes and said “You’re here! You’re here! You can be my dad now, dad! You can be the dad I’ve been missing for so long! You can be my dad now!” And then suddenly, the expression on his face changes. He frowns as if he pitied me. He tells me “No, I can’t. I have to leave. I can’t live. I’m ready to go.” It was strange that he told me this because later on when I was awake and talking to my sister Lupe about it, she told me that in the hospital he had said he was ready to die. Ok, back to the dream: I got upset when he said he was ready to die, so I walked outside and sat in my car, which was parked in the driveway with the windows open. I just sat there trying to understand why he said that. Then, through the dining area window, I could see him standing next to my mom. He gets stiff for a moment as if an electrical shock went through his body and then collapses falling on his back. I sat there in my car holding on to the steering wheel feeling mad, angry, and pissed off. Janine comes out of the house and walks towards me. She bends over, sticks her head through my open window and says “Your dad’s dead.” I squeezed my hands tighter on the steering wheel, shut my eyes, and started screaming really loud. I felt my chest start to jump as if my heart was going to pop out. When I woke up and opened my eyes, I could barely see anything because my eyes were drowning in tears. My mascara had smudged my pillow because I had fallen asleep without taking it off the night before (see picture to the right). My whimper cries turned to loud painful sobs, and I started to get anxiety. I have dreamt of my late father and brother before, but not like this. The last time I cried this much in my sleep was when I had a dream of my dad a couple of years ago. It was a “could be” dream. The dream was a beautiful picture of what our lives could have been if my dad was still alive today. I woke up heartbroken knowing that I will never have that.

But this dream was different. It was as if I was taken back to day he died. When I have moments like this, the only person I can think to call is my mother. I don’t like to call her when I get like this because I know I worry her and she is nowhere near close to comfort me. But I need to hear her voice to calm me down. When I had her on the phone, I was so emotionally uncontrollable that she couldn’t understand what I was saying. When I finally calmed down, I had only told her that I dreamt of dad. I didn’t tell her the whole thing because I thought it would upset her and make her cry. If anyone could hear how my mother comforts her child, you would understand why I needed to hear her voice. I love her so much. She may be a tiny little Mexican lady, but she’s got a heart as big as the universe.

I don’t know why I still get these feelings. I just wish I was over it. Sometimes, I think about people who have lost someone and I get surprised at how much they still cry about it even though it had been so long ago. They look so emotionally scarred by it, that I feel sorry for them. I don’t want to be pitied. I don’t want to be one of those people who can’t move on. Do I have to mourn for the rest of my life? So much time has gone by since the death of my dad and brother, but one little triggered memory can take me all the way back. I know I need to find a way to deal with this because as my friend Melissa made me realize, I suppress my feelings about it. And the more I suppress it, the more it’ll hurt when these moments occur. As of now, I don’t know how to deal with it. But in the mean time, I’ve got good friends and family there for me. Thank you Mom, Lupe, Vanessa, and Melissa for listening. I am blessed to have all of you.

P.S. And thank you to the rest of my family and friends. Without you, I wouldn’t be me :)

To My Dear Friend Karlita

This poem you are about to read is about a wonderful friend I've had since early high school. She is the kind of person that will do anything for you no matter what. She's always been there for me and I always feel inspired by her. Karlita, this is for you :)



Karlita.....


There’s no one else in this world like her
But there should be more
Fair skin and cascading locks
As beautiful as the sea side shore

Intelligent, witty, with a soft spoken voice
But passionate, loving, and full of heart
You’ll be glad to know this wonderful woman
More beautiful than fine art

From our innocent days in high school
To our mature ways in higher learning
I thank God for sending me Karlita
A true friend who’s caring

I smile to remembering birthdays and sleepovers
Hang outs at school and movies too
I hope to make many more
Fun memories with you

We may be hundreds of miles apart
But only a phone call away
No matter rain or shine
She’ll be there night or day

Time may pass between her and I
And likely it may be my fault
But she’ll always make sure
Our friendship is never at halt

To my dear friend Karlita
You deserve many more words on this page
But for now this is what I can offer
I’ll find more as we grow in old age

Thank you for being a wonderful friend Karlita
Love Always,
Jessenia Lua

A Little Poetry :)

Not too long ago, I was lucky to have a poem I wrote called “Visionary Bliss” be published in the San Marcos California State University annual Literary Magazine called The Palm. My sister once asked me “Ay Chena! How do you do it? How do you write what you write?” To be honest, I don’t even know. I feel like it comes very easy to me and I also feel like I can really emotionally connect my thoughts on paper. I might bite my tongue on this later on as I run out of ideas to write about, but for now, I feel like I can write an anthology. The one thing I hate about my writing is that I’m not as skilled as I would like to be in Spanish writing. I’ve tried writing poetry and songs in Spanish (for it being my first language and all) but I can’t seem to connect the same way as I do in English. If I had studied Spanish all throughout elementary to college, I would probably be just as good. But not to worry! One day I plan on being as good in Spanish as I am in English.

When I write, sometimes all I have to do is think about how I’m feeling, think about how someone else is feeling, and build a bridge of thoughts and words connecting both. This doesn’t always work, but for the most part, it has gotten me some pretty good pieces including songs. So anyway, the first poem you are about to read is the one that was published in The Palm Literary Magazine. I don’t quite have an explanation behind it, but I hope you can pick up the meaning of it. If you think you know what it is, leave me a comment.

The second poem below is called “I take it upon myself…” I literally wrote this poem less than two hours ago. When I get an idea for a poem or a song, I quickly have to write it down before I forget it. Usually, I’ll carry that idea for a couple of days until I can fully commit to try and finishing it. But for moments like today where I can actually keep on going and the words are just coming together, I take full advantage and finish it. And that’s just what I did. I hope you enjoy!

Visionary Bliss
By Jessenia Lua

I move my eyes to where the pigments meet
Defined by their natural beauty
Colliding together for your pleasure
His pleasure, her pleasure, their pleasure
Yet not appreciated what it does for everyone
Granted nature and euphoric joy
Blessed bliss with beautified coy

Derived from the spectrum of identifiable splendor
Creating orgasmic vibrations of visionary imperfections
Three dimensional worlds combining your substance
His substance, her substance, their substance
Effervescent grace among warm invitings
Reprimanded gestures of uncanny truths
Denying what should be to discovering youths

Layers of pastels and pedals crossing paths
The mist of rain falling on the covers of the body
Watery eyes among the question for your answer
His answer, her answer, their answer
Truth be told to everyone and to the oblivious soul
It’s a lie when I cry and look for your shoulder
Is my beauty truly in the eye of the beholder?


I take it upon myself…
By Jessenia Lua

I take it upon myself
To look beyond the social façade
To bypass the propaganda
And to live from my own agenda

I take it upon myself
To have self worth and imaginations
To steer free of complications
And reach final destinations

I take it upon myself
To believe in the power of me
To uncoil my insanity
And walk with dignity

I take it upon myself
To clear ambiguous eyes
To change cluttered minds
And reveal my true insides

I take it upon myself…
To believe in all His glory
To evade purgatory
And tell this side of the story

But most of all…

I take it upon myself…

I take it upon myself
To love whole-heartedly
To leave my legacy
And be known for curiosity

I've taken it upon myself

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHAVA! GOD, I MISS YOU!!!

I’m about to blog about a very sensitive topic and for my family members who read this, I don’t mean for this to make you cry. I’m choking back tears as I begin to write this, so I know that this might emotionally affect you. I just want to recognize our late brother on his birthday because even though he’s not with us anymore, he is always (AND I MEAN ALWAYS) in our hearts.

To those of you who knew my brother, you simply knew him as Chava. Chava was his nickname but his real birth name was Salvador Lua. We, his family and close friends, never really called him Salvador because his nickname stuck to him very early on. There are just so many wonderful things I could say about Chava. He was a brother, a friend, a son, and a father. There isn’t enough space on this blog to say what I would really love to say about Chava, so I will have to shorten it up and hope to get the message across on how much we still love and miss him everyday.

Let me begin by saying that today Chava would have been 43 years old. I can just imagine what it would be like with him here today! The one thing that I can’t get out of my head if he was still here, is how much of a great father he would be to his daughter Miniquis.

Everyone in my family, distant or close relative, has a special place in my heart. But Chava won a solid spot in the center of my heart when our father died. When our father died, my mom was left with three young kids left in the house. It was my brother Edgar 13, myself 11, and my youngest sister Vanessa 7. Chava stepped in right away to help my mother. He became the father figure in our lives and never made us feel like we were missing that person. He taught me how to wire Christmas lights together, put up mini blinds in mom’s house, how to properly clean my huge fish tank he gave me, mow the lawn, check the oil in my first crappy car, and an array of things any father would teach his daughter. He yelled at me when I got in trouble, rewarded me when I did good, but most importantly, he loved me. He loved everyone in his family and you could see how proud he was to be with us. He was always there at every family birthday and made us feel complete after suffering the death of our father Rafael Lua.

When I finished high school (and this is the part that makes me cry) I came to this realization that he didn’t have to do all these things for me, my brother, and youngest sister. He didn’t have to be there for us the way he was. So after my high school graduation, I had decided to write a letter of appreciation to him thanking him for being there for us. I wrote that letter along with a few others to members of my family thanking them for being there for me during my journey in high school. But Chava’s letter was a bit deeper because of his effort to give us that father figure we lost. In that letter, I really wanted to make sure he knew how much I loved him and thanked him for being there. Three months later, he died.

Chava’s death was such a shock to everyone. I still remember that phone call from Poncho (My sister Mary’s husband). It was a Sunday afternoon September 23rd, 2001. I was painting my toenails in my bedroom when Poncho called asking for my mom. I didn’t think anything serious because he sounded casual on the phone, but when my mom hung up, she ran to her car. Her action alone gave me chills. Later on that day, we had all gathered at his house. I remember it was at his temporary house because he and his wife had just bought land and were constructing a new one so they were staying at a temporary home. I didn’t get to see him. I don’t think anyone else did. Almost everyone was outside in the front yard waiting to see what happened. I was sitting in the living room with my mom and sister Rosa when the paramedics brought him out in a gurney from the bathroom where he had fainted. The feeling one gets when seeing a loved one in a gurney is completely indescribable. All I remember is making this loud noise. It wasn’t like a normal cry, but a painful noise coming out of me. I shut my eyes and my sister Rosa grabbed my head and pulled me into her chest. I think I only caught two seconds of him on that gurney out of the 15 it took the paramedics to get him out of the house. I couldn't look any longer. I heard that same painful noise come out of the rest of my family members outside in the yard when they wheeled him into the ambulance.

This was the first I had heard of brain aneurisms. It took my brother’s life away.

Grieving for Chava was such a long road for everyone. I think some of us are still on that road. I remember not wanting to go to his wake because of the last memory I had of my dad. The last time I saw my dad was in his casket. I didn’t want to see Chava like that. I came really close to telling my sister Mary that I didn’t want to go, but I chickened out. I thought it would have been very selfish of me if I didn’t go and everyone else had to. Now, I remember him in his blue hat. So many people showed up at his memorial service. Old friends, new friends, old ladies who he fixed air conditioners for. After his funeral, I really saw my family fall apart. I remember seeing my sister Rosa crying in my brother Edgar’s room. The door was partly open and I could see her hands over her face crying nonstop while her husband comforted her. I remember the first Christmas without him. It felt like we tried too hard to celebrate the holiday but we couldn’t. We tried to take pictures, but there were too many tears in the photos. I still have that picture. Mary, Lupe, Rosa, Carmen and I all filled with tears in our eyes. Later on that night, I remember looking for my brother Edgar and finding him by himself crying leaning on a car down the street. I had never seen my brother Edgar cry, and seeing him like that just broke my heart. But most of all, I really saw my mom fall apart. Not too long ago I heard her talking to a friend on the topic of losing family members and I remember her saying “La muerte de mi esposo me dolio mucho, pero la muerte de mi hijo…” (The death of my husband hurt me so much, but the death of my son…) I didn’t hear her finish the sentence.

The date of his death is debatable. My mom says that she counts it the day he fainted which was on September 23, 2001 but he officially died in San Diego Scripps hospital September 24, 2001. Either way, we lost one hell of a person. I miss his trademark keys he always carried. Whenever you hear keys clinging, you can bet that it was him coming down. One of my funniest memories of him was when he was looking at a photo that was taken of Johana (My sister Rosa’s daughter) and me on a roller coaster at Knots Berry Farm. I hung the photo in my room and when he came in to say “hi” he saw the photo and could not stop laughing. Right next to that photo was one of my sister Rosa holding her son Giovani on another roller coaster. Both of them looked terrified and Chava could not stop laughing. He was laughing so hard that he was slapping his knee and bending over! Another funny memory of him was when I hit him with the bathroom door and caused him to bite his lip. I didn’t mean it! I was fixing my hair in my mom’s bathroom with the door partially closed. I saw a figure behind me through the mirror and I was thinking it was my brother Edgar coming in to bug me so I quickly kicked the door with my foot and tried to shut it before he came in. When he opened the door he said “Heeeeyyy, I was only trying to give you this!” It was a little chocolate gift for Valentine’s Day. I said “Sorry Chava! I thought it was Edgar trying to scare me!” He forgave me even though I made him bleed a little.

Not a single day passes by that I don’t think of him. It’s like it’s programmed in my mind to remember him. If you read this and knew Chava, please leave a comment with one of your best memories of him. I would love to hear it.

Happy Birthday Chava!
We love you!
We miss you!
We wish you were here with us!
Say “hi” to dad for us!
Heaven is just too damn far!

Love,
Your Sis,
Chena

It may almost be eight years since you left this earth, but the pain is as real as yesterday. I'll never forget you. I'll never stop loving you. I'll always have you in my heart.

It's your destiny.....Isn't it???

Whenever I think of the word destiny, I think of a life fully planned out. I think of destiny as the “one thing” that one individual is supposed to be doing in their life. I think of destiny as the purpose in someone’s life and fulfilling that purpose with the best of your ability. But does having a destiny erase the chance to do anything else in one person’s life? And, if everyone has a destiny and they find it, are they supposed to stick to that one thing only? Can we alter our lives based on what we learn or stick to our “destiny” because it’s what we are “supposed” to do? I believe in plans but I’m not so sure if I fully believe in a destiny. Some parts of me believe in having a destiny or fate, but parts of me doesn’t. One very strong reason why I “sort of” believe in destiny is that of a friend of mine named Andrea.

Although my memory of when I first met Andrea is questionable because I say I met her in 8th grade and she says we met in 7th, there’s no doubt in my mind that her and I were meant to be friends. Here are the reasons: 1) When we first became friends, we realized we only lived a short walk away from each other’s homes. 2) In high school we were given random ID numbers. Mine was 2293 and hers was 2294. Coincidence? I think not! 3) When seniors in high school are supposed to give their final senior project presentation, they are randomly selected in groups of four out of the entire 350 student class. Andrea and I were randomly picked to present at the same time. How funny is that? 4) It turns out that she has family in the same city (Central California) where I was born! And 5) In high school both Andrea and I developed crushes on two older guys that we absolutely fell in love with. Andrea’s crush was named Jesse and mine was Andy. How funny is it that my crush’s name was her nick name and her crush’s name was what people called me? Now, if that’s not destiny for her and I to be friends, I don’t know what is. To this day, I feel our friendship remains strong and although we have had our ups and downs, living together, living apart, fighting, getting along, I know that I am supposed to be her friend and she is supposed to be mine for the rest of our lives. I can’t imagine what my life would be without her. She has been such a great friend to me for so long that my family calls her “the adopted one.”

Now let me get back to the subject of destiny. I know I’m destined to have Andrea in my life as these little significant examples prove it, but if I’m destined to be a writer, does that mean that I can’t be destined to do something else? Also, when it comes to death, is one really destined to die at a certain time in their life? I don’t think so!!!

Syliva Brown has always said that before anyone is born, that person plans out their life, their plans, and their death. Now, I love Sylvia Brown and am fascinated by the predictions she has made in the past and the unsolved mysteries she helped solve. However, I have to completely disagree with planning out your own life before you are born. I disagree because I don’t think my brother planned to die at 35 and leave his wife and little girl behind. I think we are given this life to do what we can with it and as far as death goes, I don’t think anyone knows when they’re going to die. I believe that we are destined to be with the people we love but I don’t think that there is a single destiny each person has to fulfill. If that were true, then there would be no grounds to explore new things in life.

It’s like when people say that Elvis was destined to be a rock star. But how do we know he wasn’t destined to be something else as well? He probably knew he was destined to be a father and a husband but we only saw him as that beautiful rock star. But was he destined to die young? Who in the world would want to be destined to die young? Not me! This is why I say that each of us has more than one destiny. Life would be robbing us of wonderful experiences if that were true. We should keep a wondrous mind and should always be curious to what great things we can do. Never limit ourselves and each other. Never think you only have one destiny. Never say destined….

Now ask yourself, what is your destiny?
Or should I say….destinies?

My Love Letter

Ok so being 26 and single has it's ups and downs. For quite a while now I've been saying that I don't want to get married or have kids and that usually comes to a surprise with people who know me because I come from a pretty big family of married siblings with lots of kids. But just because I say that I don't want to get married or have kids, doesn't mean that I won't ever. I just feel like it's going to take the right man and the right moment in my life in order for that to happen. But for now, I don't see myself getting married and/or having kids. Anyway, dating can be challenging when one has certain expectations and although I like to think I have pretty decent standards, it all doesn't quite seem to come together. Yes, it can be frustrating but it can also be fun. So, I've taken a different approach to dating these days and just thought "let it be." I've never really looked for Mr. Right cause I'm not in a hurry to find him, however, that nagging question "is he, or isn't he?" always plays in my head like a broken record with anyone I've ever dated. So, since my new approach of "let it be" has come into play, I've decided to delete the phrase "is he, or isn't he" out of my mind permanently. From now on, dating will be a "let it be" type of thing. But!!! I do believe that someday I will end up with someone special and even though I don't know when that will happen, I know he is out there. So, I've decided to write him a love letter. It may be corny and sappy, but it comes from my heart. Enjoy...


Dear You,

Where the hell have you been? I have been waiting for you for so long. If you are reading this now, it means that you are there. You are in the position where many faceless men have been for so many years. You are in the fantasies and creative romantic imaginations that took me on journeys that Danielle Steel couldn’t even write about. You are who I day and night dream about. You are who I think about every single moment of my life. You are who makes me smile when you call my name or gently kiss my lips as we part our ways for the day. You are who gives me butterflies knowing you will be home when I arrive and ready to put your arms around me. Years will have past by the time you read this letter. But I wrote this letter because I knew one day you would arrive. No, I didn’t know when nor did I know who it would be, but dammit I knew that one day you would come. This is my love letter to you. And when you read it, I hope that we would have experienced many romantic and fun memories together. I hope to love you like I’ve never loved anybody else in this world. I hope to have these indescribable feelings come out of me that I didn’t even know I had. I hope to only share this letter with you and no other man. I prayed for you before I even knew you existed. I would hope you would pray for me before you even knew I existed. And when we finally meet, you realize that I am who you have been praying and looking for all along. At night when I would lay my head on my pillow and ask God to guide you to me, I’m hoping you were asking Him to guide me to you. And when we finally cross each other’s paths, I look over my shoulder, you look over yours, and we just know that this is exactly where we are supposed to meet. Then you realize that all the other ones before we met were for testing our patience. Everyone else was there to teach me how to value you even more. It doesn’t matter who I was with before or who you were with before because now I know it’s you. I learned to love you more because of who was in my past and you learned to love me more because of yours. All those heartaches and unfortunate times have made me stronger and helped me appreciate even more the person you are with me. And when we are with each other, we will understand that we were well worth the wait.

With Love,
Me